


The headmaster and the diplomat

by AinZaphir



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types
Genre: Backstory, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:07:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29331303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AinZaphir/pseuds/AinZaphir
Summary: Inspired by Bulldog by Natsora. An ominous add to Carlyle's mothers death.Read the story here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28590669/chapters/70070163TW: Suicide.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	The headmaster and the diplomat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [natsora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/natsora/gifts), [MellowCorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellowCorn/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Bulldog](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28590669) by [natsora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/natsora/pseuds/natsora). 



Elizabeth was a woman who was always on the move, and always seemed to know where she was going.

Ever since she learnt how to read and she decided she was going to run for class president. No one expected her to, she was set for life, but yet she did it anyway. Just like she decided to be in the top of her class, and graduate from the most prestigious universities. She hadn’t needed to, but she wanted to. And what Elizabeth wanted, she usually got. She went where she liked, she talked to whom she liked and she took no nonsense from anyone, least of all her family. 

She even married the man she wanted to, even if he wasn’t deemed anywhere near suitable enough, not according to her parents anyway. But she wanted to. And what she wanted she got. 

All memories of faded joy. No joy lasted, it seemed, not for her. But she liked it. It kept her on the move, always striving for her next big goal. The birth of her son seemed to bring her happiness for a while, only to be shattered to see the husband she had picked slowly lose interest in anything that wasn’t business or politics. Or women.

But she kept moving. Always moving from one thing to the next, always hoping whatever project she chose next would be the one to make her happy. Negotiating the conditions of truce with the Turians during the first contact war did give her joy for a while. Settling areas with the other council races was another. Lobbying for humanity and hoping to give them a seat on the council was the current ongoing, and brought her between Earth and the Citadel on frequent visits. But this also seemed to be where it stopped, and she was forced to realize that earth may never get a seat on the council.

Not in her lifetime anyway. The very thought infuriated her. 

So when Elizabeth on a particularly fine autumn day had made up her mind to see her son's rugby match, no one batted an eye when she sat on the bleechers accompanied by the school's headmaster. She was a major contributor to the school after all. Where else was she going to sit? 

Besides, it wasn’t as if his father showed much interest in the boy. It had been a while since Darsh had shown any interest in anything that wasn’t work or extramarital activities. 

After engaging in small talk about her son's school with the head, she couldn’t suppress her impulses any longer and asked a question she would never have asked him had circumstances been what they usually were.

“Do you think he is happy?” She asked the schools head, whilst clapping her hands at yet another goal.

“He is doing great, just look at him. He’s put a few in the goal and assisted the last one!” The head said without looking away. “He’s talented, your boy!”

This annoyed her. She hadn’t asked  _ what _ her boy was doing, she could see that for herself. She had eyes after all, and was very capable of using them.

“Yes, but does he seem  _ happy,”  _ she asked.

This made the headmaster turn his head and study her more intently. Elizabeth had expected this and pulled up the usual mask of an unreadable and professional expression. She was a diplomat after all. And an excellent one at that, if she would say so herself. 

Her son's headmaster seemed amused at the sight of her mask, and she knew why. This was a look her son was known to take when faced with any kind of emotion as well. Or punishment. When not being supremely cocky and nonchalant towards authority figures, but who weren’t at his age?

“I do believe so, yes. Your son excels at everything he tries, maybe even a little too much with some of the girls.” the headmaster said, and after some thought added: “Why are you asking?”

Elizabeth didn’t answer the question. She didn’t need to, she had all of the information she had come for. Relief seared through her like a jet of warm air on a cold winter night. Her son was happy. 

“Are you okay, Elizabeth?” The headmaster again said, his voice lowered. This was not his place, but she didn’t blame him. She was, after all, showing an uncharacteristic and unacceptable amount of emotion.

“Yes. I am perfectly fine.” She said curtly, sending him a look that told him he was stepping out of line and to drop the subject. Her wall was working fine, she thought as she once again clapped at another goal.

***

She found the fact that something as simple and still as poison would be the thing that would finally stop her in her tracks. When she had learnt to drive, everyone had assumed that would have been the thing that would kill her, but as usual she wanted to prove them wrong. As she put down her glass, she let a single tear fall down her cheek. She was ready for this. She welcomed the tiredness as it came closer. Finally she would be free. Her heat was leaving her, and she knew she would only have to wait for a few more moments for all the suffering to end. 

All of her time moving had moved her into a cage she hadn’t been aware of even existed up until recently. And she wanted to leave before an escape would be made impossible. That would show them. 

An odd thought struck her as she recalled the last remnants of her conversation with her son's headmaster right before she had left the school. She had known that game a few days ago would have been the last time she would ever lay eyes on her son, and she recalled how she saw him running down the rugby field, taking down boys twice his size. She thought it made for a lovely last image, he looked happy. But as she was making her silent exit after the game had ended and saw her son being carried by peers off the rugby pitch, the headmaster had stopped her. 

“Mrs Carlyle, wait! Would you not like to see young Harry in person? He just won a major victory after all! I bet he would be thrilled to see you!”

“No, headmaster. I have somewhere I ought to be, and I am already running late. Can you do me a favor though?” 

The headmaster looked puzzled, but nodded quietly.

“Do not tell Harry I was here. It will only upset him when I depart.”

He nodded, too familiar with the absent parent apparently not caring to see their own children in person. She was certain he had not understood the meaning of what she had meant to say. He would understand when he heard the news anyway.

But she was finally free. Free from the pain, free from the prison that had become her life. The only thing she left behind was a note for her son, with few words written on a piece of elegant stationary, hidden away in a safe deposit box. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and Kudos are appreciated.


End file.
